


Civic Duty

by VickyVicarious



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Family, Fluff, Humor, Jones Brothers, Lieutenant Duckling, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-11
Updated: 2014-12-11
Packaged: 2018-03-01 02:51:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2756825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VickyVicarious/pseuds/VickyVicarious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After three months of Killian going on about some girl named Swan, Liam gets impatient with waiting for his little brother to introduce him to his girlfriend, and decides to take matters into his own hands. </p><p>...In a suitably embarrassing way to punish him for the delay, of course.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Civic Duty

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this Tumblr post](http://vickyvicarious.tumblr.com/post/104608898796/seekoutstarlight-narutowiener-ahahahahhaa-my).
> 
> [kiliansemma](http://kiliansemma.tumblr.com/) has made an [absolutely fantastic gifset](http://kiliansemma.tumblr.com/post/106377034734/modern-lieutenant-duckling-au-based-on-the-fic) for this fic. Check it out!

It’s been three months, is the thing.

In any other circumstances Liam wouldn’t pry – a teasing comment or two, of  _course_ , but he understands the difference between being an annoying older brother and being a  _true_  pain in the ass. It’s a fine line but he’s quite practiced at walking it, and a simple hickey would not normally warrant more than a smirk or snide remark or five.

However, it’s been three months.

Killian Jones has been very clearly mooning over some woman for  _three months_ now, which is approximately two months and twenty-three days longer than he has spent talking about any one woman since Milah. It has been  _years_  since he was this hung up on anyone, and frankly the look on his face when he talks about ‘Swan’ is rather disgusting. In a way that makes Liam feel very proud and a tiny bit like pulling him into a hug, yes, but still.

He’s been going on about her for three months now, bringing her up in every other conversation. Apparently, Swan is a bounty hunter. Swan appreciates good rum. Swan is killer at darts. Swan loves dogs, she drives a yellow Volkswagon Bug, she is very fond of leather jackets, she drinks her hot chocolate with cinnamon, she grew up in the foster system, she has a knack for telling when people are lying, she likes to do the crossword every Sunday morning even though she almost never finishes it, she’s just, she’s bloody brilliant,  _amazing_ , she’s –

It  _never ends_ , and Liam has definitely noticed as the details go from pub skills to far more domestic fare. Killian’s never been much of a ‘kiss and tell’ sort to start with, but with Swan he’s simply reduced to huge sappy grins and claiming that he’s needed elsewhere before a good interrogation can get underway. He checks his phone nearly every break he gets, he walks with more of a bounce in his step, he has been behaving like an utter lovesick idiot from the first morning he walked in talking about this ‘Swan girl’ he’d met in a bar the night before.

And yet, he still hasn’t introduced her to Liam. As a matter of fact, he hasn’t even mentioned her first  _name_ , let alone accepted any of Liam’s invitations for group outings or picked up on his hints to arrange an introduction. He seems to think that he’s protecting her somehow (which is ridiculous; Liam’s only ever stolen away two girls’ affections, both accidental), or – more likely – he’s worried what Liam will think of her.

As a man who takes a great deal of pride in his status as beloved older brother, this apparent concern is both gratifying and very worrying. After all, the last time Killian was this reserved about his love life, it involved an engaged woman. And, as good as this Swan woman seems to be for his little brother, it’s clear that on Killian’s end at least things are getting very serious very rapidly. She might not care nearly as much.

Liam just wants to make sure everything is okay.

Liam just wants to look out for his little brother’s well-being.

(Liam just wants to thoroughly embarrass said little brother in the process.)

So when Killian shows up to work one day with a very visible hickey, Liam says nothing. He arches an eyebrow that manages to be simultaneously stern and very amused, because provoking blushes and hissed commands from Killian to “shut _up_ , Liam!” when he hasn’t even said anything is quite possibly his true calling in life, but he doesn’t say anything more than a calm suggestion that Killian invest in some concealer if this is to be a repeating event. (This provokes his little brother to frantically peer around the room like an idiot making sure no one else is around, then kick him in the boot. Liam is very proud of himself.)

He doesn’t say a word about the Swan woman who no doubt caused the hickey; instead, he steals her number off of Killian’s phone while his brother is in the shower, and uses that to figure out her address later that evening.

The next morning he dresses in his full ceremonial uniform: boots polished to blinding, every medal he’s ever earned pinned in place, hat carefully tugged on at _just_  the right angle – all the while firm in the conviction that Killian has brought this on himself. Liam’s only doing his duty as older brother, here.

(Her face when she answers the door is  _priceless._ )

* * *

When she hears the firm knock on the door, Emma assumes it’s Ella from down the hall. Their mail has been known to get mixed up on occasion when the mailman doesn’t do more than glance at the latest letter, so this has happened before.

And, okay, every other time Ella has just slipped the mis-delivered letter under Emma’s door, but maybe it was a package this time or something. She doesn’t remember ordering anything, but it’s not yet seven in the damn morning and Emma was up until nearly  _three_  cyber-stalking the latest scum skipping bail, so forgive her for being less than discerning.

She yanks herself out of bed, grumbling, and stomps over to her front door without so much as bothering to pull on a pair of pants under her long sleep-shirt – a decision she regrets the moment it swings open.

Standing in the hallway is a tall man  _in uniform_ (complete with ridiculous  _hat_ ), scowling down at her, and holy shit, it’s too early for this.

“You – are not Ella,” she says blankly.

His lips twist a little, in what’s probably disgust, and even though she’s been working on the right side of the law for several years now Emma’s still half-asleep and her old instincts are taking over, telling her to  _flee this situation_  because it cannot lead to anything good.

“No,” he says sternly. “I am not Ella. Are you Miss Emma Swan?”

She has to fight back the urge to say  _no, sorry, she’s down the hall_  and then escape out the bathroom window. Emma blinks a couple times to wake her muzzy brain up, reminds herself she’s done nothing illegal lately (– at least, nothing anyone can  _prove._  Probably.) and nods.

“Yeah, uh… that’s me,” she agrees, kind of trailing off in the middle because she’s gotten distracted by his uniform.  It’s white instead of cop blue, but still seems to involve a hell of a lot of medals and stuff on his chest. That usually means higher rank, right? That can’t bode well.

“Miss Swan, may I come in? I need to speak with you about a very serious matter.”

She lets him in because – hell, what else is she gonna do, and he has very long sure strides, links his hands behind his back and looks critically around her living room, and she’s struck with a sudden panic that her lockpicks are sitting out or something. Turns out his eyes are lingering on the leather jacket that Killian loaned her on the walk home after their date two nights ago (and then forgot in his rush to get to work yesterday morning), draped over the back of the couch until she remembers to give it back, and Emma clears her throat.

“Um, what exactly is the problem, uh… officer?” she asks, still wracking her brain for what the hell he could be here for.

“Captain, actually. Of the  _USS Jewel of the Realm_ ,” he says, and  _of course_ , that explains the different uniform, the stupid hat, everything really except what the hell he’s doing  _here._

Except.

“Isn’t that Killian’s ship?” Emma blurts, and for a second – for a second she’s truly terrified. If something has happened to him, if something – what could happen, she tells herself, trying to quell the panic that’s suddenly making it hard to breathe, they’re getting repairs and doing on-shore stuff right now, and besides if anything _did_  happen, would they really send the  _Captain_  to come tell her? Would they even tell  _her_  at all?

(And honestly, it should probably feel too early for that, they’ve only actually been _dating_  for less than two months, but somehow Emma finds herself feeling certain that if anything ever were to happen to him, Killian has already made sure she’d be told. She just…  _knows_  it, and gets this little warm feeling in her gut, and makes a mental note to ask Graham to do the same for her.)

“Yes, Lieutenant Jones,” the Captain says, and his stern manner seems to have softened. Emma didn’t say a word of her little panic out loud but it’s obvious he’s picked up on it, and the frown actually drops all the way off his lips to be replaced with a – an oddly familiar quirking half-smile, something almost like  _approval_  in his gaze. “Don’t worry, he’s fine.”

“Oh. Um, good,” Emma says, but as much of a relief as that is, it doesn’t really –

“He  _is_  why I’m here today, though,” the Captain says, and she feels herself tensing up again, spine jerking straight. There’s an awful kind of suspense in the air and it’s making her jittery, anxious, and when the Captain proceeds to just _pause_  there for what feels like  _at least_  a full minute – she snaps.

“Just tell me what the hell you want already so I can go back to bed!” Emma snarls, and she’s had less than four hours of sleep, yeah, but… even fully rested she probably would have done the same. This guy looks like he’s getting some kind of sick  _amusement_  out of this, and she’s got issues with abuse of authority.

(Also, the look on his face is  _priceless_.)

“Um,” he says, totally taken aback. Then he – it almost looks like he’s started to _grin_ , but he’s choked it back a second later (and something about the way he does that, blue eyes flashing, is so  _familiar_ -); clears his throat very hard and furrows his brows back into stern disapproval. “Miss Swan,” he says formally, “I’m here to issue you a strong warning regarding the careless harm you have inflicted upon government property.”

All gears grind to a halt.

“Wait,” Emma says. “What?”

He clears his throat again. When he continues, his voice sounds a little strained. “We are willing to let you off this time, but if you persist there  _will_  be consequ-”

“ _No_ ,” Emma interrupts. “Wait a second. I… what does that have to do with Killian?”

The Captain’s lips wobble harder than ever; it looks like he’s actually  _biting his cheek_  in the pause before he composes himself and answers: “As a commissioned officer in the United States Navy, Lieutenant Jones of course qualifies as government property. The damage –” he pulls a phone out of his pocket and holds it up, and there’s a picture of  _Killian_  on there, looking extremely disgruntled in his uniform but perfectly healthy, except for the – “You see that… bruising on his neck,” the Captain points out, double-tapping with a finger to zoom in on the hickey blooming up the side of Killian’s neck, “Visible harm to government property, right there.”

(Deep inside Emma’s innermost soul, a voice calls  _bullshit_.)

“A hickey,” she says.

“Yes.”

“You came here to scold me for giving him a  _hickey_.”

“Ye-s.” His voice wavers a bit, and she darts a glare in his direction, because it’s obvious by now that he’s trying his best not to laugh, that  _fucker_. “I’m afraid the law is the law, Miss Swan.”

“No,” she says, shaking her head, and she finds herself laughing a little bit too, out of sheer – sheer indignation? Rage? Disbelief? She’s not even sure, all she’s sure of is – “No fucking _way_ this is real, are you fucking  _serious_  –”

She stabs an angry finger into his chest on the last word and apparently that’s the final straw for him to break down into a huge snort of laughter, fist up in front of his mouth but doing absolutely nothing to block the sound, and she shouldbe angry at him still, should be fucking  _furious_ , he came all the way to her house and woke her up at six-thirty in the goddamn morning just to get his cheap amusement out of this bureaucratic  _farce_ …

But something about his loud, honest amusement is too disarming, especially when combined with the sheer insanity of this situation in the first place, and Emma’s still frozen in place, staring at him openmouthed, when there’s another knock on her door.

Unlike the Captain’s, this one is rapid and furious, and accompanied by a familiar voice: “LIAM,” Killian is yelling, pounding on Emma’s door, “What are you doing? I know you’re here, your bloody car’s parked downstairs, dammit  _what the hell are you doing Liam_. Emma, open the door! LIAM-”

As if in a haze, she drifts over and does. Killian storms in, barely sparing her a glance, his eyes instantly locked on his Captain.

“ _You arsehole_ ,” he spits out.

“Good morning, little brother,” Liam replies with a sunny grin – and once again, everything. Grinds. To a halt.

“ _Little brother_ ,” Emma repeats.

“ _Younger_  brother!” Killian snaps.

Liam tilts his head pointedly down, emphasizing the perhaps two-inch height difference between them. “Mmnnno.  _Little_  brother,” he says.

Killian is clearly seething. “You left Google maps open you idiot, did you think I wouldn’t figure out what you were doing?”

“No, actually you’ve got perfect timing,” Liam responds. “And a lovely girlfriend, I don’t know why you never introduced us before –”

“Little brother,” Emma repeats again, and they both break off their conversation to blink at her in confusion. She stares at Liam, taking in his dark, slightly curly hair, his bright blue eyes, even his nose is practically the same, how the hell did she not  _realize_. “Liam… Jones.”

“Commanding officer  _and_  big brother of this idiot, that’s right,” he says, locking an arm around Killian’s neck and ignoring the resulting indignant squawking to hold out a hand to Emma. “It’s a true pleasure to finally meet you, Emma, Killian talks about you all the time.”

“Shut  _up_ ,” Killian hisses before she’s had time to process that particular statement, bursting free from under Liam’s arm and taking up a defensive position by her side. “What have you been  _telling_ her, you twat?”

Liam affects a – is that seriously a pout? Seriously? “I’m only doing my duty, Killian. That’s –” and he points at Killian’s neck, and Emma can feel herself blushing reflexively, “an embarrassment to the uniform. A warning was called for, as your Captain.”

“Then give that warning  _to me_ ,” Killian hisses.

“Ah, but you weren’t the one who damaged government property. It’s a serious crime,” Liam says, shaking his head sadly, and Emma turns to watch as Killian nearly has an apoplectic  _fit._

 _“Liam_ ,” he growls, and suddenly Emma realizes that this could probably go on all morning if left unchecked. Liam is grinning, utterly smug, and Killian is reacting like she’s never even  _seen_  him before, angry like a little kid, they’re  _both_  being so immature it makes her want to smack their heads together.

(Makes her –  _jealous_ , to tell the truth, because this kind of idiotic behavior only comes with true intimacy, the kind of closeness that only siblings can really share and she’s never really had.)

She takes a deep breath.

“SHUT UP,” she says, and they both jerk around to stare at her again. “I only got to bed  _three hours ago,_ if you hadn’t noticed,” she gestures angrily at her pajamas, “so you can finish this stupid fight out in the  _car_  on your way to the bakery to pick me up some fresh-baked bear claws or you can finish it in the car on your way  _home_.”

They gape at her, identical dumbfounded expressions on their faces.

“ _Go_ ,” she says.

They go.

* * *

“I like her,” Liam voices in the car a little later, hot box of fresh bear claws on his lap. “I can see why you go on about her so much.”

Killian flushes, gripping the steering wheel tighter, but when he speaks, his voice is that familiar soft, wistful tone he typically uses talking about Emma: “Yeah… Emma’s – she’s…”

Liam smirks, supplies, “The love of your life?”

“God, shut  _up_ ,” Killian snaps, but he doesn’t deny it.

“Don’t worry,” Liam says, thinking of the sheer terror on her face in that moment she thought Killian had been hurt: “I’m pretty sure she feels the same.”

“…You are?” Killian asks, and his voice is so uncertain, so tentatively  _hopeful_  that Liam abruptly realizes  _this_  is why he hadn’t ever been introduced. Killian must have been afraid, not that Liam would disapprove (he’s now certain that disapproving of Emma Swan is an all but impossible task), but that he would be able to judge Emma’s feelings objectively and find them wanting.

Liam thinks back again, to the stiff, guarded way Emma had held herself, her sparsely-decorated apartment, the way Killian had come home practically swooning right from the start… and he’s overcome with a rush of fondness for his little brother, so obviously in so deep and terrified for it.

“Of course,” he says, and his voice is soft, affectionate without pretense. He puts a hand on Killian’s shoulder. “This is  _you_ ; how could she not?”

His little brother swallows hard, and his smile is bright and wide as he parks outside Emma’s building.

She’s dressed and waiting: greets Killian at the door with a kiss; Liam by snatching the box of pastries out of his hands and just instantly going to  _town_  on them, talking through a full mouth about what they’re planning to do today since clearly they’re all spending it together at this point.

“I promise not to give him hickeys anywhere you can see from now on, Captain,” she promises Liam with a knowing wink at once that clearly implies non-visible areas are still highly vulnerable, and forgives him for his prank. “But only because you’re his big brother.”

“ _Older_  brother,” Killian interrupts warningly, and Emma arches a single coy eyebrow.

“Mmnno,  _bigger_  brother,” she says with a little toss of her hair and bite of a bear claw for emphasis, green eyes bright with amusement, and Killian just groans.

Liam is so proud.

(And, he thinks, maybe it’s a good thing he didn’t meet Emma Swan earlier. If she weren’t already clearly in love with his brother, he might have been in real danger of falling too.)


End file.
